


luckily i'm lucky

by jolie_unfiltrd



Series: baby be my next prey [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Although Sansa is still sex-deprived, And gets giant tattoos to tell him, Arya is in love with her boyfriend, Book Club, Brunch Club, But he's too dumb to realize, F/M, Gendry is a secret feminist, Gendry is just... Gendry, Hiding, Texting, The focus is not on the romance, Theon is a merman, VAMPIRE ROMANCE NOVELS, bless him, but more importantly, just as an fyi, sansa is a siren, secrecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolie_unfiltrd/pseuds/jolie_unfiltrd
Summary: Gendry is found out, Sansa is a middling-amateur detective, Theon gets to show off his fins.Or, the beginnings of the infamous brunch trio, three months prior.title from fangs by younger hunger
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark & Gendry Waters, Theon Greyjoy & Gendry Waters, Theon Greyjoy & Sansa Stark
Series: baby be my next prey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1988080
Comments: 23
Kudos: 65





	luckily i'm lucky

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween weekend!!  
> i cannot believe i wrote the vampire fic _or_ this one  
> thanks for all the encouragement & laughter and i hope the origin story lives up to expectations. 
> 
> [beta'd by [@letterstomylove,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letterstomylove/profile) all mistakes are my own!]

**SANSA** : Mum, did I leave any of my books at the castle last time I visited?

 **CATELYN** : Sansa, dear, for the last time, it is not a castle, it is simply a manor estate.

 **CATELYN** : And no, I haven't seen any!

 **CATELYN** : Do you remember what they were called? I can tell Ivy to keep an eye out.

 **SANSA** : Can't quite remember the title!

 **SANSA** : But if you see any that aren't yours or dad's, let me know!

 **CATELYN** : Of course, darling.

 **SANSA** : Wait, who is Ivy?

 **CATELYN** : Oh, she's the new maid. Fae, and a whiz at that pesky dust on my bookshelves.

\---

As far as Theon was concerned, there were many frankly delicious benefits to being Robb's boyfriend - some of which were so scrumptious it bordered on illegal - but this, _this_ was the best. He swam to the surface of the lake behind the Stark's sprawling manor home, doing a joyous flip above the water with his hands tracing the waves before plummeting back down to swim among the fish.

There weren't many lakes in Winterfell, and most of them were filled with inconsiderate boaters and drunk sailors who couldn't tell the difference between a merman and a siren and who kept asking him to _sing_ for them. Idiots. 

(It had only taken two verses of "Your Body Is A Wonderland" for them to rue the day they were born).

But this - this was the fucking _best_.

Robb had joked that Theon would never break up with him in order to keep the lake; Theon joked in return that he would ask for the lake in any pre-nuptial agreements.

(Neither of them were joking, exactly. But Robb was right, in that he had given the love of his life the perfect gift, and Theon would obviously ask for the lake, the moon, the stars, and other nonsensical things like Robb's left ventricle and a lifetime supply of fresh fish).

He started to swivel his tail in preparation for another truly fantastic jump, when he spotted someone making their way hesitantly to the gazebo on the other side of the lake, hidden from view from the main house. It wasn't as though the Stark children weren't constantly popping in and out of the home - Rickon and Bran still lived there, and even their hours were sporadic - but rarely did they look so shifty.

Theon's smirk widened as he watched them slink through the field, recognizing those broad shoulders at last, before deciding to slink down deeper and wait for the opportune moment.

Despite Robb's protesting (and ample evidence to the contrary), he could be a patient merman.

\---

**SANSA** : Have you seen any of my books lying around your apartment?

 **ARYA** : HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR OVARIES LYING AROUND

 **SANSA** : ...

 **SANSA** : what? 

**ARYA** : tell Jon you want to boink him, for the love of GOD

 **SANSA** : we JUST went on our first date

 **SANSA** : literally yesterday

 **ARYA** : my point stands

 **SANSA** : ...the book?

 **ARYA** : nope

 **ARYA** : you know how i feel about those

 **SANSA** : I don't care if you like them, but have you SEEN it??

 **ARYA** : I pray mine eyes deceiveth me if I have seenth that devil book

 **SANSA** : UGH

 **SANSA** : ...

 **SANSA** : and you KNOW i want to "boink" him

 **SANSA** : HE knows

 **SANSA** : HE'S THE HOLDOUT

 **SANSA** : DON'T BLAME ME FOR JONATHAN'S ANTIQUATED SENSIBILITIES

\---

Gendry peered around one more time before sitting in the Adirondack chairs in the gazebo, far from the prying gaze from the manor house, far from Arya's inquisitive eyes and the frankly disturbing gaze of the new maid. (She didn't have _pupils_ and he didn't know what to _do_ about that, okay?)

(Gendry was, perhaps, the only completely human one of the gang. He supposed Jon was, as well, but for some reason, Gendry didn't really count him. And Rickon, but if the way that boy had actually howled from the day he was born was any indication, he wouldn't remain human for long).

He reached into the pocket of his tattered hoodie for a book, eying the front cover with a half-smile before sinking into the chair and beginning to devour it.

 _Finally_ , he thought. One minute passed, then five, then he was lost completely in the story of Evelyn and Josh, the misunderstood vampire and the boy that had loved her since childhood.

"Sup, Gendry," came a voice from the water, and he nearly jumped out of his skin to see Theon there, perched on the rock, grey-green tail splashing flippantly in the water, as he looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Theon," he sighed, trying to calm his racing heart and oh-so-casually put the book down, resting the cover on his legs, finger carefully marking his place. "You scared the life out of me."

The merman only grinned. "Whatcha got there?"

"Hmm?"

"The book. What are you reading?"

"Oh, nothing, really," Gendry shrugged. He could play it cool. He had years of practice trying to evade Arya's attempts to find out the exact details of her surprise birthday parties, and even longer of avoiding the curious questioning of Ned and Catelyn, before Arya had finally realized she'd been in love with him forever. 

(There was ample evidence that he was, in fact, a very patient man).

(He was not, however, quite as cool or casual as he thought).

"Looks like a vampire book to me," Theon mused, the corner of his mouth quirked in amusement. "In fact, it looks like the _exact_ book that Sansa's been missing for the last week or so."

Gendry opened his mouth, then closed it immediately. He could play it cool, sure, but lying on his feet had never been one of his strong suits. It was one of the things he appreciated in having Arya as a partner, actually - she always had his back and she was an _fantastic_ liar.

"So, how is it?"

"Excellent," Gendry responded immediately, whole-heartedly, before freezing. He shook his head slightly, decided that wasn't impactful enough, and leaned back to thunk his head against the chair, over and over again. "Fuck," he said quietly.

Upon seeing his rather obvious reaction, Theon raised his hands above his head in a V for victory, then took off around the lake for a rather over-dramatic show of aquatic prowess. The lake was large, which gave Gendry at least a few moments for introspection.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed, per se, that he enjoyed vampire romance novels.

Well, alright, he was a little embarrassed that he enjoyed romance novels in general - he was a manly man! He was supposed to read books about, like, economics or cars or body-building, the likes of which lined the shelves in their apartment because Arya read them, naturally. Which wasn't to say that Arya was a manly man, more that she enjoyed doing things that people told her not to do. People included society at large, so she was often doing seemingly nonsensical things that made total sense once he thought about the explicit and implicit limits placed on women.

(He still couldn't puzzle out how the massive tattoo across her thigh fit in - the one in the shape of a stag - but he wasn't a mind-reader and did not pretend to be).

It was more that, honestly, he thought she might take it a little... personally?

A few years ago, Arya and Gendry had had a fantastically awful row, and broken up for the first and only time in their history (and based on the ring in his sock drawer, hopefully the last). They'd split for a solid six months - during which he found romance novels and woodworking, and she found a horribly ridiculous boyfriend named Jaquen who played the drums in an alt-rock band and also had a suspiciously vested interest in vampire role-play.

(Long story short: it turned out that Jaquen's ex-boyfriend was a vampire, and he was really looking for someone to literally fill those shoes, and to say that Arya did not take that well was an understatement).

(She had reportedly screamed "I'm a fucking _werewolf,_ you moron!", dumped an entire pitcher of beer on his leather-clad too-skinny self (okay, okay, so Gendry's memory tended to embellish the rumors a tad), flashed her slightly-too-sharp teeth and ran out to tackle Gendry in his leather armchair in his apartment. This had resulted in _quite_ a memorable evening, if the scars on his back were anything to go by).

In more recent years, she also claimed (rather loudly) that romance novels were silly bits of fluff for people to read who didn't have enjoyable, fulfilling sex lives - _vampire_ romance novels were just smutty nonsense for the undersexed.

And, Gendry blushed even as he thought it, their sex life was... well, it was fucking incredible, wasn't it. (And yes, some of the books were smutty, but he hadn't seen her complaining when he'd used one of the moves in his last book on her. Not that she'd ever find out he was inspired by a book, mind you).

So, yeah, he just couldn't imagine his interest in vampire romance novels going over well with his beloved girlfriend, and he would have lived a long and happy life hiding them in the covers of other books and pretending like he was, in fact, reading The Love of the Blade: Woodworking and You.

But fate, or Theon, apparently had other plans.

Once Theon made his way back to the outcropping of rocks, Gendry ran his hands through his dark hair and looked at the man he considered his friend, his fellow out-law in the strange family that consisted of the Starks and the people they dragged into their lives with their love and inevitable force of will. "Please don't tell Arya," he said quietly.

"I shan't," the merman affirmed, offended that Gendry would even have to ask. The younger girl's hatred was well-known among basically every circle in Winterfell.

"And maybe, if it's not too much to ask, don't make fun of me?"

"Never," swore Theon emphatically, before swimming closer. "I read them, too," he confessed with a wide grin.

Gendry's eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"

"How else do you think I can recognize the cover of _Under My Thrall_ on sight? I've been waiting for Sansa to read it for ages, so she can pass it along to me."

A short laugh escaped Gendry's lips, before he raked his fingers through his hair once more, relief in every gesture.

"Oh thank god," he said, before pausing and asking a hesitant. "Hey, um, do you think I could get in on this book swap?"

Theon's grin broadened. "I'll do you one better. Can you bake, by any chance?"

\---

**THEON** : I'm bringing someone to brunch this week

 **THEON** : just as a heads up

 **SANSA** : no no absolutely not

 **THEON** : why not?

 **SANSA** : THEON this is our PRIVATE brunch/book club

 **THEON** : brook club, go on

 **SANSA** : the only reason we get any time without my siblings is because we pretend to spend the entire time talking about our sex lives

 **THEON** : lol yeah

 **THEON** : I mean we do that too though

 **THEON** : but why can't I bring someone else

 **SANSA** : did you or did you not watch pretty little liars with me

 **THEON** : ...

 **THEON** : I did

 **SANSA** : two can keep a secret if...

 **THEON** : *sighs*

 **THEON** : one of them is dead.

 **SANSA** : two, Theon! not three!!

 **THEON** : but we aren't murdering anyone!

 **THEON** : we are just eating and talking about our favorite books

 **SANSA** : *aggressively hums PLL theme song*

 **THEON** : ...

 **THEON** : what if I told you they could bake?

 **SANSA** : ...

 **SANSA** : alright, I'm listening

\---

Sansa, despite a brief obsession with Nancy Drew as a pre-teen, did not consider herself much of an amateur detective. Or, she certainly didn't after this missing book debacle. She had retreated home on Friday night, ecstatic to see that the latest in the Blood Like Dawn series had arrived, the thrilling conclusion that she'd been waiting on for almost two years, and hid it immediately on her bookshelf before Jon had arrived to pick her up for their date.

Between staring into his eyes at the steakhouse and trying to not combust on sight of him with pent-up sexual frustration (it was their second date and she already absolutely despised this idea of "taking it slow") (luckily they could still make out on her couch until the witching hour because they were both grown-ups and god, _why_ weren't they having sex again??), heading over to the Stark castle for her mum's famous pot roast and to rib Bran for his new girlfriend, or her ritual of Sunday brunch with Theon to swap (currently non-existent) sex stories and eat an obscene amount of scones - she hadn't had a spare moment to pick up the book.

So, imagine her surprise when, Sunday evening, she reached for the book - only to find it missing. She scoured her apartment in the early part of the week, convinced that she'd misplaced it, somehow. She was a human being (mostly), she lost things sometimes, right?

Wrong. It wasn't there. (And she could maintain her theory that she was, in fact, closer to perfect than would be reasonable for a human being).

She texted her mum (horrifying), her sister ( _ugh_ ), and had even casually brought it up to Jon (who had been so busy staring at her cleavage that he had completely missed what she said and she counted him off immediately).

The only other thing she could think of was, well, almost unthinkable. 

Jon, Arya, and Gendry had come over to watch 90-Day Soulmates on Saturday afternoon. She had already crossed two of those names of the list and the last, however improbable, remained.

And that is how she found herself, slunk low in the seat of her car, parked just across the street from Gendry and Arya's apartment, waiting for Arya to leave for hockey practice, like she did every Thursday night at 7:30.

Right on cue, by 7:27 Arya was rushing down the steps, hefting a bag over her shoulder, with obnoxiously large headphones slung around her neck.

Sansa waited a few minutes to make sure Arya hadn't forgotten anything and would return, before storming up the two flights of stairs and rapping smartly on the door.

While she waited, staring down at her leopard print pumps and drumming her nails (cobalt blue with metallic moons, Jeyne was an absolute _artiste),_ she began to doubt herself. Surely, this was ridiculous. In what strange universe would Gendry not only read vampire romance novels, but thieve one from her apartment. 

It was positively absurd. She should just leave immediately before he answered the door and -

Gendry opened the door just as she swiveled her heels towards the stairs, a look of surprise on his face and - so subtle she would have missed it if she weren't looking intently into his face - guilt.

 _A_ - _ha_ _motherfucker_ , she thought.

"Sansa!" he exclaimed with a mixture of faux-enthusiasm and confusion that would have been charming if he wasn't a liar and a thief, as he threw a hand towel over his shoulder and dusted what appeared to be flour on what appeared to be an apron. "I wasn't expecting you."

A smug smile played over her ruby red lips. "I bet you weren't," she said, before pushing her way into the apartment. "Now, where is - oh my _god_ ," she groaned, marching straight towards the kitchen. "What is that smell?"

It was Gendry's turn to smirk as he turned towards the kitchen. "Lemon-basil scones," he offered, as if that was a totally normal thing for him to say, as if she had known that he was some sort of star baker who could make fucking _scones_ on a casual Thursday night and oh, if she hadn't been mad before, she was _definitely_ mad now.

"You can bake?!" she shrieked, being careful (as always) to keep the tone of her voice at a pitch reasonable for human ears, and not one that would accidentally eviscerate him or make him fall completely under her spell. Gendry was relatively good-looking, she supposed, in the way that he is tall and has broad shoulders and has blue eyes - but honestly, those were the same things that made people consider Robb good-looking, and that was enough to spoil his appeal for her forever. Also, she had Jon (or would _eventually_ have him, good _god_ ) and that was enough for her.

Gendry shrugged, abashed, even as he slid the scones into the oven. They looked picture-perfect.

"You can bake _and_ you stole my copy of Under My Thrall." Sansa pointed at him accusingly, and he had barely opened his mouth before she muttered under her breath. "Oh, you are _so_ coming to brook club."

"I'm sorry?" he said, looking utterly confused.

"You should be," she nodded seriously, happy enough that her unlikely theory had been confirmed and that she knew the precise location of her book.

Well, she didn't actually, now that she thought about it.

"Where is my book?" she asked, tone friendly and Gendry, clearly caught off-guard by the tone, gestured hesitantly to the hardcover book on the side table. "Learning To Fish: Introspection and Sunscreen. Is this a real book?"

Gendry snorted as he wiped down the countertop. "No, just needed something Arya wouldn't read."

"Oh, you are _clever_ ," she said, tutting at him as if she was a strange mother hen, and not a siren with viciously sharp nails and a voice that could enthrall or eviscerate him, depending on her moon. (Gendry was... a bit terrified of Sansa, if he was being honest).

"Do... do you want it back?"

"Are you finished?"

"Not yet," he confessed, "only about halfway through."

Sansa perched on a bar stool and quirked her head to the side. "And how is it?"

"Excellent," Gendry offered, a heartbeat before a blush stained his cheeks.

"I knew it would be," she replied. "Now, don't worry, I won't tell anyone, including Arya, about your theft."

Gendry sighed in relief, though he sensed there was a catch.

"If -"

Ah, there it was.

"If you come to brunch with me on Sunday and bring the book," she demanded. "And scones," she said, as if it were an after-thought and not an obsession that had consumed her every thought since walking in this apartment.

(A little known fact about sirens: they didn't do casual well. Casual relationships, casual hobbies, casual obsessions... they tended to go all-in. Sansa was no exception, not with Jon or romance novels involving fangs or breakfast food).

"I, uh, I might have plans - "

Sansa simply shook her head, letting his words brush over her and refusing to acknowledge them, before grabbing her keys and heading towards the door. "I'll text you the details. See you then!" 

Gendry was left reeling, and more than a little concerned about how he was going to get brunch with Theon _and_ Sansa at the same time.

\---

**SANSA** : guess what

 **THEON** : what what in the butt

 **SANSA** : ...

 **SANSA** : alright, I deserved that

 **SANSA** : but what i was going to say is that i'm bringing someone to brunch TOO

 **THEON** : wtf

 **THEON** : what happened to brook club secrecy

 **THEON** : how come I, your best friend, want to bring someone and you immediately shut me down

 **THEON** : and then YOU come in

 **THEON** : with someone ELSE

 **THEON** : and

 **THEON** : ...

 **THEON** : wait, why am i mad again

 **SANSA** : i honestly couldn't tell you

 **SANSA** : it was your idea to expand brook club

 **THEON** : i knew you liked that name

 **THEON** : still 11:30 then?

 **SANSA** : for us?

 **THEON** : obviously

 **THEON** : we need time to swap sexy stories before we talk about sexy stories

 **SANSA** : and -

 **THEON** : YES SANSA, AND EAT SCONES

 **THEON** : jfc woman

 **SANSA** : :)

 **SANSA** : tbh we could do 11:50

 **THEON** : still not getting laid then?

 **SANSA** : i don't want to talk about it

\---

It was perhaps a sign of the trust that Sansa and Theon had in each other, that neither asked exactly _who_ the mystery addition to brunch would be.

Or, and this is more likely, they enjoyed the drama that a minor mystery could bring to the metaphorical and literal table.

In which case, they would have been pleased to note that Gendry had worked himself into knots, trying to figure out how he could reasonably deny either of them their request for scones and book chatter, and so distressed about the notion of either of them choosing to blackmail him with information on his reading habits (highly unlikely, but after his encounter with Rickon last Christmas, he didn't rule _anything_ out when it came to the Starks and their lovers) that he couldn't quite manage to put the pieces together.

That is, not until he showed up at Theon's apartment with two trays of scones (intending to drop one off at Theon's, then go to the address Sansa sent him), double-checked both addresses, and realized they were the - _what ho!_ \- one and the same.

Gendry took a moment to appreciate he was still alive, even if he was apparently _this_ oblivious.

(It was a miracle, honestly).

\---

"I'm going to die, Theon," Sansa protested as she laid her forehead on the table, blindly grasping at the glass of generously poured bubbly.

"No, people don't die of sexual frustration, Sansa, as you've told me many times throughout the years." He paused, before adding, thoughtfully, "Your vibrators might, though."

An inarticulate groan erupted from Sansa's mouth and she lifted her head mere inches to scold Theon for pointing out the obvious - that's why they invented rechargable batteries, clearly - what kind of idiot siren did he think she was? coming into her full powers and lust without ample technological back-up to preserve her sanity? _honestly_ \- and saw her invited guest hovering in the hallway, a blush staining his cheeks.

It seemed the poor boy was debating whether or not he really wanted to join in on this conversation. She was happy to make that decision for him, which was: absolutely not. So, she skipped ahead to the grand reveal. She stood and gestured to the doorway, her pretty polka-dotted skirt falling to her calves in the most becoming way.

"Theon, would you like to welcome my guest?" A coy smile lifted her lips as she swiveled her head in order to see the look of surprise on Theon's face but - alas - his face held only the smuggest of grins. 

"Oh, but Sansa," he laughed as he got up from the table to actually help Gendry with his balancing act of scones. "Don't you mean _my_ guest? I caught him reading your book at the Stark manor a few days ago." 

Her eyebrows spiked up and she looked at Gendry, aghast. "My book? Near Theon and that wretched lake? Tell me you didn't get any water on it, I beg of you."

Gendry shook his head nervously and shoved his hands in his pockets. "No, no water, I promise."

With this, she offered him a benevolent smile and motioned for him to sit. Once this queer threesome was appropriately arranged around a table set for four, Sansa raised an amused eyebrow at Theon. 

He shrugged back. Of _course_ they both uncovered Gendry's secrets in the same week. And _naturally_ they both forced him to come to brunch. What else are best friends for?

Sansa couldn't help the genuine smile that spread across her face - and even Theon shivered a bit at the sight. (Was it really _his_ fault that the eldest Stark siblings looked so much alike? He was firmly only into Robb but Sansa was a literal siren and he couldn't be blamed for appreciating the similarities between them, right?)

(Gendry, meanwhile, dragged his gaze from her ruby red lips directly to the table; he was a mere mortal man, and he most definitely did not want his ass kicked by Jon or Arya for ogling Sansa. The tablecloth was really a lovely touch, he mused).

"Cheers, then," said Sansa with a perhaps a touch too much cheer (she was already a few glasses in and they'd only been there ten minutes) (was it _her_ fault that talking about her sex life made her want to drink? no, that was Jon's fault, _clearly_ ), "to the newest member of our brook club, Gendry."

"Cheers!" echoed Theon, bringing their champagne glasses together at the center before downing at least half. (He had drunk in sympathy with Sansa. And also it was his apartment and he could do whatever he liked, including being a bit of a lush and ravishing Robb once he returned back from whatever the fuck he did on Sunday mornings).

"Cheers," offered Gendry, who was feeling perhaps a bit nervous and regretful about the whole thing, but it was too late now, wasn't it. "Um, what exactly is brook club, again? Not that I'm not happy to be here, it's just -"

"Oh, right," Sansa said, as she daintily selected a lemon-basil scone (made fresh that morning) from the platter, while Theon cradled a blueberry-chocolate scone as if it was his firstborn son. "Well, the first rule of brook club is that you don't talk about brook club." She polished off the first scone, and then devoured another one in rapid succession. (Was she breathing? Chewing? Hard to tell).

"Right, okay," he said, feeling as though he ought to have had a bit more champagne before this conversation, "but what is it, exactly?"

"Brunch club slash book club," Theon explained, looking oddly smug at the explanation for the portmanteau that Gendry considered, really, unnecessary. "Sansa and I spend a bit talking about any sexy stories we want to swap between us-"

At Sansa's violent gesturing, he explained a bit further, realizing that Gendry was looking a bit green around the gills, as it were.

"Which you are not invited to, obviously," he glared at Sansa's constant interruptions and hand-waving.

Theon mimed that she should just finish the scone in her mouth and then talk, like a proper lady.

Sansa flipped him off with both hands, mouth full of scone.

"But then we just, you know, talk about the books we've read and go through some discussion questions."

"Actually," Theon brightened, "you're the only one who has read this week's book, so we brought together some discussion questions based on the first two in the series." The merman pulled out a typed list from the other end of the table - underneath the mini mushroom quiches from the downstairs bakery - and Gendry's shoulders sagged in genuine relief.

 _Not blackmail, then, or a prank_ , he thought, as flashes of last Christmas faded from his mind. 

Sansa rinsed her palate with another generous glass of bubbly, necessary after three consecutive scones, and snatched the list from Theon's grasp, reading the first question aloud. "First, what are your thoughts on the class divide between Elias and Sam, and how do you think that influenced their first interactions? Would it have been an issue if they were both vampires, instead of Elias?"

Gendry grinned.

\---

Robb and Theon had a particular agreement, regarding their weekends. The latter was granted the total privacy of the apartment they both pretended they did not share, to "do brunch" and talk about unspeakable things with Sansa. The former did not understand how "doing brunch" was an action, but he digressed; in return for this privacy, Robb was granted four hours to go and do whatever he liked.

Theon believed that this primarily consisted of going for a run around the lake at the Stark manor, gorging himself on the donuts that were always in the kitchen, and taking a long, luxurious nap in the hammock.

This was, for the most part, true.

Robb pulled a long-sleeved shirt over his sweaty torso before he headed to the gazebo after his run. He took a moment to peer around for wandering eyes, then popped up a loose board and retrieved his current read from the stash of library books carefully stored in the private compartment. (It was where he used to store his condoms and vodka, as a teenager, and now he used it for decidedly salacious but less overtly suspicious storage).

He settled into the hammock, and opened the cover of _Blood Like Dawn_.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you're all safe & that the world is feeling a little less spooky in the weirdest timeline 
> 
> (i maintain that it went off the tracks shortly before the final season of game of thrones and we've just been off-kilter ever since) 
> 
> (also - i feel like i heavily implied in this story and the one prior that jon wanting to go slow sexually was antiquated/wrong etc. just wanted to state that NOPE. the view i portrayed was skewed bc sansa is a siren/very dramatic as a person, not because there is actually anything wrong with wanting to wait. 
> 
> tldr; have sex on your own timeline with enthusiastic consent from both partners! woo!!) 
> 
> anyway.
> 
> xoxo, jolie 
> 
> (ps. my [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jolieunfiltrd) for fangirling & writing updates!)


End file.
